


in my dark

by nimrodcracker



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, spoilers for entire game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:27:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24713845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nimrodcracker/pseuds/nimrodcracker
Summary: she measures time not with day or night, but in people. the people she meets this endless night.
Relationships: Iosefka (Bloodborne)/Original Female Character(s), The Hunter/Lady Maria of the Astral Clocktower
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	in my dark

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this for someone i know - if you're reading this, yes. it's for you :)

The Hunter raises her fist to knock, but- doesn't. "Iosefka?"

A shuffle of robes, face sighted between the crack of the door. "Good, you are safe. How goes the hunt? Are you in need of blood vials?"

"I can't do this anymore. Let me in, please."

"Good hunter, I cannot. My patients… they cannot survive an infection."

"Then talk to me. Let me hear your voice. Let me know that you hear me." She steps towards the door. "Please."

"That, I can do that for you, hunter. I will be there when you cannot for yourself."

"Hessia."

"I'm sorry?"

She straightens, newfound surety in her voice. "Hessia, that's my name. I don't want to forget how it is to speak. I don't want to forget who I am."

"Then I will remember, Hessia. For the both of us. And when morning comes… perhaps we can finally see each other."

The Hunter slides her hand down, gloved fingers catching against the panel of the door. "I would like that."

+

"Go now. A hunter must hunt."

A hunter whose belly doesn't hunger, whose body doesn't break. Only blood. Only yearns for blood, retching everything else in the dusk and dawn, the night between. Where the blood she spills the blood she drinks corked in bottles around her waist... rancid in her nose before sliding gloriously down her throat.

Her will to live.

"And what if I don't? What if I fail?"

Eileen's gaze is unwavering. "Then I will see you again."

+

Even in moonlight, the brooch glimmers a deep crimson… darker than the flickering flames of incense burning in the lantern outside the girl's home. A brooch pried from the bloodied fingers of a woman curled on a ledge in Oedon's Tomb. The Hunter turns it over between her gloved hands. Turns it over, over, over. Thinks of the brick troll a ladder below. The crows cawing in the distance, in the sewers. The townsfolk roaming the streets. A bonfire, lit in the middle of town. A bonfire, meant for beasts… all over the shop.

The Hunter sprinkles more incense in the lantern.

A silhouette appears by the window. "Hello? Is that you, Miss?"

"Sit tight, child. I will return."

+

"Iosefka, your voice - are you sick?"

"Oh, no. I am very well. Why do you ask?"

The Hunter doesn't recognise the woman behind the cracked glass. "Nothing. Perhaps my wounds ail me, still."

"Remember - send survivors to me, and I will care for them."

The Hunter remains, watching the woman behind the cracked glass.

"Why are you still standing here when there are beasts to hunt?"

The same gray hair, tied in a high ponytail. The same white vestments, flowing around her frame. "Nothing. Perhaps I was imagining things."

The glint in her eyes. The tightness to her smile.

The edge in her tone.

The Hunter does not return.

The next time she does, it's not out of choice.

The next time she returns, she walks into a clinic in disarray. Shattered windows, broken furniture. Celestials waddle in the dark amidst medical equipment strewn haphazard along the corridors.

They pay her no heed.

She cuts them down regardless.

Holding up a familiar blood vial to moonlight, she knows that the night has claimed another of hers.

+

"Do you regret coming to Yharnam?"

"Do you, hunter?"

Would it be that such conversations be had over a pint, amidst raucous laughter in a tavern. When was the last since the Hunter could look into someone's eyes, and not see beasthood? "What would it matter, now? Blood ministration helped me walk without wincing again, but the hunt demands… and the hunt takes."

Gilbert coughs, but this time, she hears him wheeze too. "That's my answer. With the blood I received, at least I can die human."

+

"Brave hunter, I thank you again. Perhaps… if you've changed your mind?" Always on her tongue, these few words. Far from the woman cowering in a corner in the dark, the way the Hunter found her. Forgotten. Sobbing, as if anyone can hear.

And the Hunter did. Led her back to the Chapel, like the rest of them.

_You drink the blood of half the town, and now this! And you talk of beasts?_

Like the rest of them.

Again, the Hunter says. "I have to decline."

Again, the Hunter says.

Again, the Hunter says.

Until the red moon rises, and Adella cowers in the corner again.

+

The Hunter finds Arianna on the steps of the Chapel sometimes, gaze turned skywards. The crimson moonlight glancing off her eyes. The gentle breeze tickling through her locks.

"How is Yharnam in the morning?"

"Darling, the sunrise is beautiful. I miss it."

"Did you think you would see the sunrise again?"

"No. I was running out of incense, and the hunt tonight… there's something different about it. And then, you knocked on my door."

+

"Why are you still here?"

If the older hunter is offended by that question, he doesn't let it show. Instead, he takes a longer drag on his pipe. "They need me."

"All I see is a graveyard, Djura. Beasts all over the shop."

"At present. Once, they were not. They did not ask for this - and I suppose, neither did you."

The Hunter stands. Dusts her leathers, and buckles her weapons back on person. Back where they belong. "I will find you when the morning comes."

"Farewell, hunter. Perhaps then, I will tell you why."

+

The Hunter knocks on the window - three precise raps. "Child?"

"Who is it?"

"Hessia."

The familiar shadow grows behind the glass. "Miss!"

"Come with me. I know a safe place."

"But the beasts?"

"They're gone. Otherwise, I will protect you from them."

Only then, does the window unlatch. The lights, bright and then naught. The door in the side, swinging open to two girls walking out. The taller one, with a white ribbon around her neck. The shorter one, with a red ribbon around her neck. The one who walks up to the Hunter, wide-eyed, to tug at her sleeve. "Where's Papa? Have you seen Granpapa?"

The Hunter looks down, reaches out to touch her shoulder. "Wherever they are, I think they are safe."

The older one watches, unflinching, over the younger one's smile. Nods, barely, when the Hunter looks to her.

That's all that needs to be said.

+

"Alfred, your eyes - are you alright?"

"Indeed I am, kind Hunter. There is nothing wrong with my eyes."

When was the last since the Hunter could look into someone's eyes, and not see beasthood? "I'm heading for the Woods. Will you remain here?"

"Until all beasts are slain, I will not leave."

The Hunter fidgets on her feet, fingering the notched leather of her belt. "Then I will see you again."

+

"How do you get your sedatives, Ma'am?"

"Why, scavenging in Yharnam, of course. Much hides in the streets… especially a street on the night of the Hunt."

The Hunter stills, fingers tightening around the blue bottle. "Not anymore."

"Whatever do you mean?"

The Hunter presses the bottle back into gnarly fingers… and meets her gaze. "Stay. Please."

+

In the dream, it's not the chaos of Yharnam. Of the nightmare. Only the susurrus of leaves, moved by the passing wind. An otherworldly calm, for a beaten and bruised body mangled in the world beyond.

"Good hunter?"

"You can sit beside me, Doll. Unless you wish to stand." The Hunter closes her eyes, sinking into the bed of flowers. "Beautiful, isn't it? I could lay here forever. Watch the sky ripple above me. Feel as the last of my strength leaves my limbs. I would like that."

"What of the hunt?"

"I wish to be free of it. I don't know how Gehrman sits with the dream, the quiet…"

"Sometimes I hear him mumble in his sleep. Restless, even in sleep. There is much that plagues him."

"Does he tell you about them?"

"He does not."

The Hunter closes her eyes. "Perhaps he never will."

+

"Do you think, when this is over… we could be friends?"

The Hunter stills. Looks over her shoulder, over her scarf wrapped around her jaw. Watches the Dweller, swaddled in ratty cloth, with bloodshot eyes. 

A sight they awake to, again, again, again, again. "You already are."

+

"My eyes grow heavy… let an old woman rest."

The Hunter stays there, sitting beside her on the steps. Bloodied cleaver left aside, sticky hands holding a figure oh-so-light in her arms. Watching. Watching the steady rise-and-fall of her chest, reassured by her stubborn grip on life. "How do you stop having dreams?"

"You will find out, good hunter. The pain and the exhaustion you feel - it will be for something. All things will come to an end…"

How long had the Hunter walked this town, this land? How long had the wizened Crow? How many years does she carry in the folds of her feathered robes? How many more years does she want to live? Not once had the Hunter seen the face behind the mask. "Eileen, I- there are sisters who need a protector, should I not make it back."

"You found survivors? I had hoped, but what I've seen…"

"Gascoigne's daughters."

A chuckle. "You have a lot of faith in an old woman, Hunter. Do I deserve that, I wonder?"

"Can you walk?"

Eileen hesitated, at first. Froze in the Hunter's arms as if weary to move otherwise. Then, she sat up. Gingerly. Jerks herself back onto her feet in silence, wincing from the weight on her bruised joints. But her back remains bent. Her head, drooping.

And that, is answer enough. "Then I will walk you to the Chapel."

"You would do that for an old woman?"

The Hunter had cleared the streets, again, tonight. But hours had passed… hours enough for monsters, Church folk, and feral townsfolk alike to emerge again. "I would, for you to see the sunrise once more."

+

"Once, I was alive, and then, I was dead. And the next, I was alive."

Annalise stands before the Hunter, as regal as before. A stature that demands subservience in the bent knees and lowered gazes of her audience. A demand the Hunter readily acquiesces to. 

"There is an altar deep below the Grand Cathedral, and I placed your flesh there."

"Pray tell, why did thou do so, after leading the Executioner to Our throne? After thee denied Our offer to partake of my rotted blood?"

"Hubris, your Majesty." Then, quietly. "Loneliness."

The aching loneliness of a Hunter, doomed to hunt in solitude… between life and death, beyond life and death.

"Then stay, for as long as thou require. Cainhurst will remain sanctuary for thee even when the night passes."

+

Tall double doors shake the very stone the Hunter stands on… and she continues to push both open.

A different kind of Yharnam. A grand cathedral. A research hall. And then, her path led her here: a clocktower.

A high-backed chair in the distance. A- hunter, slumped in it. The first human face in a long while, illuminated in candlelight.

How long has it been? What time has passed? So many beasts… beasts… beasts… that she hunts in solitude. Between life and death, beyond life and death.

She reaches to touch that face, frozen in fitful sleep - and it reaches back.

When was the last since the Hunter could look into someone's eyes, and not see beasthood?

"A corpse should be left well alone."

The Hunter doesn't.

(She kills her.)

The Hunter returns.

(She kills her again.)

The Hunter dances once more.

(She kills her with blood and fire.)

"You never learn," Lady Maria says, gloved hand digging deep into the Hunter's chest. Curling those fingers around the Hunter's heart, throbbing against her hold. Curling her arms around the limp body of the Hunter, bleeding from innumerable wounds.

"I choose not to." The Hunter smiles, wide, wider as the pain _spikes_ \--

The Hunter falls asleep to clear gray eyes, staring right back at her.

(She kills her.)

The Hunter returns.

(She kills her again.)

The Hunter dances once more.

(She- )

"How many before me have you slain?"

Blood trickles past Lady Maria's lips, as red as the stains on her cravat. "More than the fingers on my hands."

"How many more must you slay?"

She is so weak, so heavy in the Hunter's arms. A warrior in their last moments, clinging to life and the Hunter's gaze. "That depends on you." She seizes the Hunter's wrist. "Be my last, Hessia. Let your face be the last I see."

"I cannot promise you that."

She looks away, pained. "Then I will have to kill you once more."

+

"Will I meet you again?"

"I cannot say. How many winters since I found myself here…"

"You dream, do you not?"

"No one appears in the nightmare without cause." Simon takes her hand, gripping it tight. "Go on, hunter. Seek the source of the Nightmare. Release us all."

The next time the Hunter awakens in the silence after the shrieking, the lashing of rain and thunder against wood walls, she turns to her right.

Nothing greets her. Gone, like he never was.

She wraps his bandages around the wood of the fence outside, overlooking the beach.

+

Life and death and life and death and life and death and life and death.

Again he comes. Again he strikes. Again he falls. Again he looks to the Hunter, a sneer heard rather than seen.

"Well, well… look who's here, in my quarters." This time, Brador sits amidst splinters and debris, languid and at ease. "Pardon the mess, it's been a while since I… entertained guests."

"Enough."

The mirth disappears. "That's it? You're here to kill me, delude yourself towards the righteousness of your actions?"

"Enough-" The Hunter wields her beast cutter with a hurl, mechanical parts clanking as it elongates. "Is enough."

"Tsk. You Hunters say the same things."

+

_This night, and this dream, will end. Gehrman awaits you, at the foot of the great tree…_

"How long have you been here?"

Gehrman sits in his wheelchair, head bowed. The flowers sway with the passing breeze.

"How many Hunters have you cut down?"

"As many as they come."

"Will you cut me down, too?"

Gehrman looks up, beady eyes beneath his rimmed hat. "Do you want to dream, or do you want to live?"

Herself, hobbling along the bridge into Central Yharnam. Herself, welcomed inside a clinic by a wizened man, his beard reaching the buckle of his belt. Herself, relief flooding her aching legs as she lies on a surgical table.

She does not forget the silvery sheen of the blood that night.

"I want this to end."

Gehrman rises with surprising vigor. A step closer, a two, another. His hands, reaching behind his back. "Then close your eyes, little one."

When was the last since the Hunter could look into someone's eyes, and not see beasthood?

The Hunter closes her eyes.

+

The Hunter opens her eyes.

Dawn. The pinkish hues of morning greet her as she stumbles to her feet. Notes that she still wears the leathers of a hunter, not a smudge of blood to be seen. As if…

She frowns.

She picks her way through the empty streets of Yharnam back to a familiar graveyard. Pushes open the door into a familiar building, down the steps and into a room lined with surgical tables. She half-expects a wolfish figure to pounce at her from the shadows - but no. The hall is quiet as she heads for the door at the opposite end, and then back up a familiar set of stairs.

She doesn't wince when she walks.

The morning light spills in from stained glass, catching on the chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

Then, she sees it.

The door she used to face in silence, hours on end. Rested against, as she tended to her wounds on the top landing.

She opens the door.

The room is as she remembers it, the first time she hobbled in.

Empty.

Gone, like the wince in her step.

She feels her chest tighten. Her throat clams up.

"Hessia?"

She flinches at the voice. Spins on her heel, and-- Relaxes. Laughter bubbles from her lips.

She calls out to the figure on the stairs. "You remember."

The same gray hair, tied in a high ponytail.

The same white vestments, flowing around her frame.

Iosefka nods, smiling. “I can finally see you.”


End file.
